slow burn
by in stars
Summary: Some things simply take time to heal. Others require a little push. HansElsa, Fire!Hans ― ON PERMANENT HIATUS
1. i

Elsa can't concentrate.

It's been hard enough to come to this decision in the first place, so it makes sense that writing this letter is taking longer than she expected, but the fact that she can't get past the second line is becoming a problem. The nib of her pen presses hard into the paper at the start of her sentence, creating a black blot that she curses at when she sees. Crumpling up the paper and sending it halfway across the room with a blast of ice, she huffs and slumps into her chair. It shouldn't be this hard to write a single letter- after all, Anna has told her that he's the thirteenth son of a family who couldn't care less about what he does, and not even the most dedicated group of parents or siblings could deny that he deserves to be imprisoned after what he's tried to do to a queen. _Treason_, she reminds herself, taking a deep breathe. _He committed treason and he broke your sister's heart and he tried to chop your head off, and he deserves everything he gets_.

If she's being honest with herself, Elsa's reluctant to send off the news of his imprisonment in the dungeons of Arendelle because, deep down, she's a little scared of him. She doesn't wanthim in her castle- in her kingdom- she doesn't want him anywhere _near_ her or Anna. His attempt on her life was, at the very least, understandable, but her sister? She's innocent. Anna's funny and charming and hopeful and naive. Anna's no monster. And that's why she knows, for a fact, that he _is_.

It's because of the conversation she had with Anna earlier that day at breakfast, in fact, that she's made this decision. Her sister was reaching over for a piece of fruit when Elsa blurted it out- "Anna? Do you think we should send Hans back to the Southern Isles?" and regretted it immediately afterwards. Anna's hand froze in the air and her face went blank before she answered slowly. "I, uh... I don't want him in the castle, but I don't think his family is going to punish him. Since, you know, they don't really... care about what he does. And I don't want him to go off and do this to someone else." Elsa had nodded, fists clenched underneath the table, and continued to eat, but she has been busy thinking ever since. And there is _so_ much to think about.

In the end, she agrees with Anna. The youngest prince of the Southern Isles won't be taught a lesson if she sends him home and he won't be missed if she doesn't. The decision is easy, logically, and she knows that there's no other option if she wants to be a good ruler. If it weren't for the darkness she saw in his eyes as he was fished out of the sea after Anna punched him or the haughty sneer that remained on his face even as he was being dragged to the dungeons, there wouldn't be a doubt in her mind. And yet...

Abandoning the thought, she finishes the letter quickly, hoping that the ink blot will be ignored. She made her decision the moment Anna made hers, she tells herself firmly as she signs with a flourish and stamps it with her seal, and he can't do anything to anyone if he's locked up.

Calling a servant to deliver the letter to the boat heading to the Southern Isles, she stands and adjusts her cloak. If she doesn't hurry, she'll be late for dinner, and Anna seems to really want Elsa and Kristoff to bond.

* * *

When she arrives at the dining hall, Anna and Kristoff are already waiting for her, and a small frown adorns her face. She could have _sworn_ she started to head over here a few minutes early...

But any sign of distress dissipates as Anna smiles widely and practically bounces over to her, dragging Kristoff behind her. "Elsa! You're here! I had the cooks make chocolate cake 'cause I know you like it so much. I also had them prepare a chicken, and there's some carrots for Sven, of course..."

Her sister continues to babble, and Elsa smiles, taking some time to notice the adoring grin on the ice harvester's face as he looks at the redhead. He loves her, and while Elsa wasn't sure at first if she was quite ready to share her sister who she only just reconnected with, she knows that he'll be a pleasant addition to their small family. He's not just some boy who likes Anna, after all- he's her true love, and that means something to the both of them, she can tell. That's why when he asks her for Anna's hand in marriage (which he will, of course, it's only a matter of time) she'll say yes, even if it scares her.

Elsa's musing is cut short by something bumping into her from behind, and she shrieks, snow instinctively forming in her hands before she can think. She whirls around, ready to defend herself, and lets out a sigh of relief when she sees that it's nothing more than the reindeer, it's wide eyes just a few inches away from her. Anna begins to giggle and Kristoff has the courtesy to stifle his laughter, but after a moment of tenseness, Elsa begins to laugh herself, throwing her head back and letting it bubble up inside of her. The snow dissipates as the sisters chuckle, and after a few moments, Kristoff joins them, his own laughter booming and deep. Eventually, when the last of the giggles end, she smiles warmly at the both of them and says, "Let's eat." Then they sit down at their respective seats and the conversation goes on as usual, but some sort of tension that always was there before is gone, and Elsa feels as though a certain weight has been lifted off her shoulders.

This is nice. Eating dinner, talking, laughing, hearing about their day... it's something she hasn't had in years. It's such a stark contrast to the quiet dinners she would take alone in her room that she can hardly believe it was only a little bit ago that she was so paralyzed with her fear of herself that she stayed in complete isolation.

The years of being by herself all the time haven't left her unscathed, though, so she finds that she doesn't speak so much much as she listens. Anna animatedly tells her stories of the day she spent with with Kristoff and he interrupts to teasingly correct her, explaining how it _really_ happened. But she smiles the whole time, and the warmth in her chest doesn't leave, even when the chocolate cake is gone along with the rest of their dinner and they all retire to their rooms.

When she arrives at her bedroom, she removes her cloak and lets her hair down with a small smile on her face, Elsa thinks to herself that this is real. This is her life now. And she won't let it go, no matter what.

* * *

She wakes with a start.

She's always had bad dreams, ever since the incident with Anna all those years ago, but this one is different. It takes her five minutes of curling and uncurling her fists with her eyes clenched tight to slow her breathing, and even then, she feels the disquiet deep in her bones. Something's off, she knows it, she can't _escape_ it, and she thinks the reason why is obvious.

Elsa doesn't get cold. She's the Snow Queen- the very thought of her shivering is preposterous; even the dullest of men could tell you that if someone has ice running through their veins, they're likely immune to the cold. But she has seen the fire in his green eyes, she knows how the hatred inside of them feels like a promise, she has felt the cold burn of his rage... if anyone can reduce her to a quivering puddle of despair, it's him. He's done it before, and if she gives him a chance, he'll do it again.

Her nightmare was devastatingly realistic. She remembers kneeling on the ice as Hans drew his sword, the scrape of the metal sending a shiver down her spine. She remembers her terror, looking up at him and seeing the savage joy in his eyes as he swings, knowing that she deserves what's coming to her. She remembers it just as it was... until it changes.

Anna jumps in front of the sword just as she turns to ice, and Elsa has never felt so much love and so much pain at the same time before. A sob is about to tear its way out of her throat and she reaches up to brush her fingertips against Anna one last time and then-

Anna shatters into a million pieces. She shatters and she's gone, and Hans just grins and swings his sword again, this time aiming for Elsa's heart.

Maybe it's irrational, but she as she jolts out of reliving the dream, she's suddenly overcome with a surge of panic. He's evil, he's a monster, he's plotting against her and her family and he's going to escape and kill them all, she has to check, she has to be sure- stumbling out of her bed, Elsa shoves her shoes onto her feet and grabs the first cloak she sees, making sure her hair is covered before she flies out her room, door swinging shut behind her.

The journey to the dungeons takes a few minutes, but it feels like longer. When she arrives, she's panting, and she takes a few seconds to be glad that her cheeks don't flush easily. Hans will catch onto any weakness she shows even the slightest sign of, there's no doubt about it, and she's not willing risk him realizing just how fast she got here. That would imply that she's worried. Considering that he could probably turn her love of chocolate into a way to make her break down, she thinks it's best to be subtle.

Taking off her hood and quickly running her hand through her hair to frost it into place, she takes a deep breathe, wishing only for a moment that she'd taken the time to put her hair up before rushing here instead of leaving it down. Like a queen, Elsa straightens her shoulders and strides into the hallway of cells where she knows he's being kept (_you know where he is because he was the one visiting _you _here__ not so long ago_, her subconscious whispers. _This is a bad idea._) The guard is obviously asleep, snoring loudly and leaning up against the wall, and she clears her throat, making sure his eyes meet hers head-on when they open. The man jumps to attention and his face shows wonder as he realizes who she is, and he bows low, mumbling as he addresses her.

"M-my queen," he stutters, and she smiles as kindly as she can with her heart beating this fast. "What can I do for you?"

"I just need some time with the prisoner," she tells him softly. "Would you mind waiting outside of the hallway?"

He hesitates, looking as though he's about to protest, but one glance at the regal look on her face cows him into nodding and bowing once more before he walks away, stumbling a little as he goes.

Her queenliness is gone as soon as the man leaves her sight and the panic takes control again within seconds. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to slow her breathing, but any and all hopes she has of herself to staying calm are dashed to pieces when she hears his voice, quiet and silky smooth, from behind her.

"Queen _Elsa_," he nearly whispers, and though she isn't looking at him, she can just imagine the cruel amusement in his eyes. Elsa doesn't respond, not yet, and he apparently thinks this is an invitation to continue talking, because after a few seconds he addresses her once more.

"Fancy seeing you here. What, you couldn't sleep?"

Everything he says sounds deliberate, over enunciated, and she thinks of him laying on his cot and staring up at the ceiling of his cell, imagining all the ways he can break down her defenses. Another chill whispers through her bones, but she's grown used to the feeling in the past few days, and she quickly brushes it off.

Finally turning to face him, she makes her face as blank as possible and lifts her chin. "I believe we have some unfinished business, Hans." Her voice is frosty and she begins to gain confidence- perhaps too fast. Her eyes glimmer as she continues. "Or would you rather me call you _prisoner_?"

Hans' expression doesn't waver, but his eyes turn dark, and she counts that as a victory-

"I'd rather you call me Hans, your Highness."

-but his voice is so casual as he speaks that she realizes that taunting him was a mistake, and as he opens his mouth again she wishes she could go back in time and stop herself for ever making this idiotic trip.

"That reminds me, I've been wondering. Should I call you Queen Elsa? Your Highness?" He looks up at her casually through his long eyelashes, and she notices that his eyes are a particularly pale shade of green in this light. "Or maybe I should call you _monster_. Which do you think is most fitting, hmm? I'd _love_ to hear your opinion."

Elsa recoils back, her heart beating so loud she swears she can hear it, and any pretense of her being alright automatically dissipates. Hans can see it, too; she knows he can because a sadistic smile settles on his lips and he takes a step forward. The moonlight shines onto his hair and she's blinded. She can't move, can't breathe- he has her under his spell, and he's perfectly aware of it.

"Come on, now, don't be shy. It's just who you are, you know- you're a monster. There's no shame in it if you just _accept_ it, Elsa. It's not like you're the only one who knows it. Anna's scared of you- why do you think she was so eager to marry me? Even now, I bet she's settling for that blond buffoon as an excuse to spend less time with you." Elsa's petrified, staring with horror into his eyes, and he chuckles. "Your parents knew it, too. That's why they locked up up for all those years. You're the Monster Queen of Arendelle, and if I weren't locked up in here because of you, I might laugh."

She finally manages to tear her gaze from him, but he doesn't stop talking. It's like venom has been building up inside of him and now that he's begun to let it out, it won't stop. The temperature is dropping rapidly, but he keeps taunting her, his calm composure beginning to melt away.

"You can't _control_ yourself. All you do is hurt people- your sister, your subjects... is it any wonder I wanted to take the crown from you? Face it, Elsa, you can't do this. You never could. You're lying to yourself, lying to everyone around you, and you know it. You were locked away for years for a _reason_. If your parents hadn't died, they _never_ would have given you the crown. Even your idiot sister would be better to rule than you."

He's yelling, now, and as he lunges forward, his words echo throughout the dungeons.

"_You should be in here instead of me!_"

Before she realizes what's happening, she instinctively throws her hands up. With a flash of light, Hans drops to the ground, and Elsa just stands there in shock, the word _monster_ running through her head over and over again.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter won't make much sense till Chapter 2 is out as well, but that's all I have written. I wrote this probably two months ago, and the novelty of my obsession has sort of worn off- I might write more of this if I have time/it gets enough interest, but I'm really not sure. The next chapter is from Hans' POV, so any seemingly OOC actions of his will be explained. Reviews make my day.**

**(I don't own Frozen or any of the characters associated with it, and I'm not making any money off of this. Consider this story disclaimed.)**


	2. ii

Hans wakes up slowly, taking time to blink the grit from his eyes and adjust to his surroundings. He's only been locked up for a day or two, but he has never hated anything more than he hates this godforsaken cell- well, except for the women who put him in here.

He hasn't even been given a new pair of clothes to wear. It's pathetic how incompetent the queen is; he's willing to bet that she's ignorant of the fact that she needs to tell the guards to bring him fresh clothes for them to do it.

And yet- they beat him. The neurotic freak and the high-pitched child in a woman's body beat _him_. He still can't quite bring himself to believe it. If he had just done what he should have and kissed Anna... it would have been _easy_. He could have pretended to be shocked when their embrace didn't halt the progress of the ice and told Anna he was going to go find someone to help her, locking the door on his way out. He could have killed Elsa in her cell and regretfully told her people that she had gone crazy and he had been forced to be execute her. He could be sitting on the throne right now instead of laying on a dingy old cot and staring up at the ceiling, and it's infuriating, but in the end, he simply couldn't pass up the opportunity to see Anna's face crumple. That's always been his greatest weakness as well as his greatest strength- he's vindictive to the point of ridiculousness, and while it has given him an inordinate persistence, it can occasionally take over. But he had been so _sure_ his plan would go smoothly, and the girl was so very obnoxious that he simply couldn't help himself.

That isn't the worst of it, though. He can't blame himself for underestimating Anna because he's still not quite sure he did. She would never have been able to defeat him if it weren't for the masses of people practically lining up to assist her, and she wouldn't have managed even with all of that if he hadn't made a mistake. In the end, it's Elsa that he's angry about most of all. She had been hilariously easy to manipulate once she began doubting herself, but that was mostly the doing of everyone around her- he can hardly take credit for _that_. He had confused the vulnerability on her face with naiveté, mistaken her love for her sister as fear of herself, and it had been his downfall.

She may not know how to rule, but she knows what she's doing at least _some_ of the time, and he's confident she'll choose to keep him in Arendelle. The queen has proved that she's no fool, at least when it comes to him, and if Anna has told her anything about his life in the Southern Isles Elsa won't be willing to risk him getting off without punishment. Instead he'll be stuck here, and she'll likely just send off some brief letter to his family saying that he attempted treason. The thought of his brothers laughing, his father sighing, and _Valeriya_- he grinds his teeth in frustration. He would almost rather face them and tell them himself than just sit here and imagine their reactions.

Almost.

His family is too complicated for someone who isn't a part of it to understand. He still remembers how Valeriya was the first to find out just how different he really is; how young he'd been and how he'd looked at her in his wide-eyed innocence and asked her, breathless with fear: "Mothe- Valeriya. Do you think they'll still love me when they find out?" She had thrown her head back and laughed, beautiful with her long black hair and lips painted red. "Hans, darling," she responded, eyes glimmering, "maybe if someone loved you, we'd be able to find out."

And, as always, she had been nothing less than perfectly honest. As his stepmother, she had no reason to think he was anything but a pest. His mother died giving birth to him. His father has thirteen boys and is on his fifth wife; even if he had the time to care about his children he would disregard Hans. All of Hans' older brothers are-

His fists clench and he burns with hatred. The rage inside of him is the rage of someone who hasn't had anything taken from them because they have never had anything in the first place, and he knows that his brothers are to blame.

After a few deep breaths he calms himself. There's no use in getting angry right now because he can't _use_ it. In a few days he'll be out of this prison and there will be some new place to conquer, some new hearts to destroy, but for now he must wait. He may as well plan as he does it.

His escape will have to be orchestrated somehow. The security isn't very tight, but he still won't be able to get a key, and there's too many uncontrolled factors for the attempt to be worth it. No, he's going to have to find a way to get out of the castle before he runs, and he's going to need someone who's willing to take him...

A slow smile spreads across his face. It's _easy_- beyond simple, yet somehow elegant, too. It's nothing but taking the common factor of this and manipulating it in his favor, really, but he takes a few seconds to appreciate that he's still good at this. His failing to achieve his coup d'etat stings.

Elsa has proven herself to be mercurial at best and and borderline psychotic at worst. He underestimated her, yes, but her emotions are more malleable than clay, and her weaknesses are laughably easy to pinpoint and target accordingly.

First, he decides, he'll talk about her subjects. A healthy blow to her self-confidence and a nice place to start; it's just enough to make her defensive, but not so much that she'll leave straight away. From that he can smoothly transition into her parents. Perhaps he'll say that they were right to lock her up, perhaps he'll tell her they wouldn't have locked her up if they truly loved her... in the end, it's all just leading up to the finale: he'll mention _Anna_. Hans loves nothing more than twisting logic to suit his own little games, and he can craft her sister's desperation for love into proof that she thinks Elsa is a monster with ease.

Calling her a monster is the most important part, of course, but he has to build up to it or else she'll run and he'll _never_ get what he wants. He's sure she's torturing herself over his place in the dungeons right now, so he should only have to wait a few days for a visit, and by then he'll be more than ready.

He grins at the ceiling, fighting the urge to whistle. Finally, things are beginning to correct themselves.

* * *

It takes even less time than he thought it would.

There are three guards who take shifts staying outside his cell at all times- _just till the queen decides what to do with you_, he was told. _You're not _that_ high of a priority_. As hilariously obvious as that lie had been, he had managed to merely nod, containing his smirk. It just means she's scared of him, and that's going to be an advantage that he needs to pull this off.

The second guard, Karl, is a bumbling idiot. They're all buffoons, of course, but Karl is the worst. Hans gave up on trying to contain the urge to wrinkle his nose every time he heard a sneeze within minutes of meeting the man, and he's spent the rest of his time since fantasizing about Karl being dragged through the streets by dogs. He has a breathing problem, Hans assumes, and that's the reason he sounds like a pig hogging every time he breathes in and out, but there's no sympathy in his heart for a weakling. He learned a long time ago that sympathy was for idiots.

It's worse at night, though, because Karl _snores_. He's so useless that he doesn't even try to do his job- his only talents are sleeping while standing up and, Hans is sure, scaring small children. It's become so obnoxious that it's led to Hans sleeping during the day, when Idiot #1- Johan- and Idiot #2- Aksel- merely sit there in boredom, because it's impossible to fall asleep listening to such a ruckus. His new sleep schedule will somewhat beneficial in the long run, as well; he figures that he should avoid traveling during the day for the first few days of his flight. His red hair has always been something he's been proud of, but it's easily recognized, and he's not taking risks this time.  
Two nights after he makes his plan, she visits.

Karl is snoring, as always, when she arrives. Hans is counting the snores, telling himself that he'll have the guard stabbed as many times as he snores when he's out of here, and the sound of footsteps makes him loose track at 63. For a second he merely curses to himself- now he'll have to start all over again- but then he realizes who it is. Who it _has_ to be.

After a few seconds, he hears the sound of a woman clearing her throat and smiles widely. This is _it_.

Hans can see Karl jump to attention from where he is on his cot, but the queen's back is to him. She seems to be wearing a cloak and her hair is unbraided, and he realizes with amusement that she didn't plan to come here- it was a spur of the moment decision, one apparently made in the middle of the night. _Pathetic_.

Karl manages to stutter out, "M-my queen," as he bows unreasonably low to address her, and Hans has to fight to keep from bursting into laughter. Elsa asks if she can have some time alone with the prisoner, please, and the guard leaves with barely a moment's hesitation. Hans smirks. _Bad move_.

As soon as Karl's footsteps trail off, her head bows forward, and he can hear comical attempts to breathe slowly. The light from the lantern hanging off the wall makes her hair look golden than white. He takes a moment to appreciate her- the _image_ of vulnerability- before he slowly rises and takes a step towards her.

"Queen _Elsa_," he finally says, his voice low and somehow sinister. This is what he's been waiting for. The air is thick with tension.  
After she doesn't respond, he continues, making himself sound as casual as possible. If she scares too quickly, he'll have to wait even longer to escape this hellhole. "Fancy seeing you here. What, you couldn't sleep?"

Finally- _finally_- she turns to face him, and he feels the excitement buzzing in his chest. She may be able to procure ice, but the queen cannot emulate it so save her life, and her poker face does nothing to hide her panic. Her voice, surprisingly, does not shake, and she lifts her chin.

"I believe we have some unfinished business, Hans. Or would you rather me call you prisoner?"

He feels a twitch of annoyance at her insolence. There's very few things he hates more than being disrespected, and it's somehow worse when she does it. His face is neutral but he knows his eyes burn as he responds.

"I'd rather you call me Hans, your Highness. That reminds me- I've been wondering. Should I call you Queen Elsa? Your Highness? Or maybe..."

His pause feels like an eternity. He's almost having _too_ much fun with this.

"Maybe I should call you _monster_. Which do you think is most fitting, hmm? I'd love to hear your opinion."

Her face is exquisite. She draws back and her eyes widen even more; the corners of her lips tremble and pull down. She really is beautiful, he thinks to himself with a grin. There's something thrilling about this- knowing that she looks like that because of _him_.

He doesn't bother hiding his amusement anymore.

"Come on, now, don't be shy. It's just who you are, you know- you're a monster. There's no shame in it if you just _accept_ it, Elsa." Her name rolls off his tongue like velvet. "It's not like you're the only one who knows it. Anna's scared of you- why do you think she was so eager to marry me? Even now, I bet she's settling for that blond imbecile as an excuse to spend less time with you."

At this point, he chuckles, shaking his head slowly. Her blue eyes are locked on his. "Your parents knew it, too. That's why they locked you up for all those years. You're the Monster Queen of Arendelle, and if I weren't caged in here because of you, I might laugh."

She looks away, trembling, but he doesn't stop. He doesn't know if he can, at this point. His rage is his weapon, but when the dam breaks...

He barely feels as it gets colder.

"You can't _control_ yourself. All you do is hurt people- your sister, your subjects... is it any _wonder_ I wanted to take the crown from you? Face it, Elsa, you can't do this. You never could. You're lying to yourself, lying to everyone around you, and you know it. You were locked up for years for a _reason_. If your parents hadn't died, they _never_ would have given you the crown. Even your idiot sister would be better than you, in the end."

She's wilting, he can tell. He has to strike while the iron is hot, and so with one last breathe, he ends it, almost yelling.

"_You should be in here instead of me!_"

And then he lunges forward- just quickly enough to scare her, to grab her attention. A blinding light explodes from her fingertips, and the last thing he sees is the ice before everything goes dark.

* * *

**A/N: This is likely the last update that's gonna come out, cause this story has been on the back burner for months, and my inspiration for it is pretty much gone. However, you never know- reviews do wonders for my writing. **


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